


Trace

by Kasumi_Shino



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Drabble, Touch, narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasumi_Shino/pseuds/Kasumi_Shino
Summary: You are with him and he is here with you.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Trace

**Author's Note:**

> Another one for you all. Enjoy!

Watching him clean his gun is such an interesting and fascinating thing to do. His hands move with a practiced ease, that can only be achieved after many hours repeating the same motions. As you lean against the door jamb with arm crossed, your focus lands on his very familiar hands, and observe each movement. Such precision, truly a master at work. If life hadn't taken the turns it did, he could have easily been a sculptor, or a musician, or anything that required dexterous hands.

You wait until he is assembling it all back together before you move away from the door and make your way over. You don't care about being silent because he already knew you were there. He always knows, like some sort of sixth sense. The six chambered barrel snaps into place, just as you reach him, and you wait. From here you see what he lets everyone else see of him, the hat over his eyes, and his well groomed beard. It feels like forever, but eventually he reaches up and grabs your hand with his. Calloused fingers tighten around yours and pull you down to sit next to him. You do, trying to avoid the jacket next to him, and look up at him. From this new angle you can sort of see his eyes under the hat and to anyone else he looks lost in thought, uninterested in the moment, but you know better. His arm goes around you and holds you to him as he leans back in the couch. You rest your hand on his chest, the blue shirt crisp under your fingers and a small shiver run over you as his finger starts to trace gentle patterns on your arm. 

He sighs and you wonder if something happened during the last job. He'll tell you, or he won't and that's just how it is, and you have learned to accept that. And neither of you say anything since all is conveyed through touch. You are with him and he is here with you. That finger tracing your arm tells you all you need to know.


End file.
